


Space Dust and Coke

by KatsudonLink



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, space
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 11:16:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatsudonLink/pseuds/KatsudonLink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock (who is coincidentally made out of space dust) reacts with coke like Space Dust reacts with Coke. </p><p>Popping, fizzing all over.</p><p>Space Dust reacts with Coke like Sherlock reacts with John. </p><p>Popping, fizzing all over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Space Dust and Coke

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work in progress, meaning even the prequel can be changed. The piece is planned to be M or E rated by the end, but then again, things change!
> 
> Also~  
> Space Dust: pop rocks  
> space dust: like the dust clouds found in space  
> Coke: Coca-cola  
> coke: the drug

With a cigarette between his fingers, Sherlock is slack on the couch, watching the smoke sluggishly raise from his mouth because he’s not blowing it out, not exactly. A foot is on the arm rest of the leather couch, one on the floor. He is sprawled, eyes closed, burning fuel. Sometimes the genius’ mind slows down. Sometimes. And he becomes like the others, just burning fuel without actually doing anything. As ordinary people do, Sherlock burns fuel to stay awake, to keep his consciousness, to keep information like how to tie your shoes and what mercury tastes like. He remembers the days he went through two packs a day, he remembers how his fingers looked liked from holding so many cigarettes. So, memories too, some, not many. Sherlock long ago decided information was higher on the scale of importance than memories. Deleting memories has always been harder because one day he smells something and remembers burning the side of his hand while trying to make french toast at an age where he had to use a stool to reach the cooker. And that single memory, connected to so many other strings that went to other neurons, brings other memories alight. 

Then Sherlock remembers pedestrian things like what Mycroft wore to breakfast that day (an awful brown sweater vest, light blue shirt, dress pants) or the fact that they didn’t have sugar to put on it at home. Honestly, who doesn’t have sugar in a mansion?, he remembers thinking. 

One thing Sherlock hates about memories is even if they are from long ago, he remembers how he felt. The memory also brings back the huge disappointment and sadness he felt. A little child with inky curls sitting in the kitchen with a burnt hand that still hurt, a plate with two pieces of (also burnt) whisked egg covered toast with no sugar on top, a tantrum on the edge. 

He remembers Mummy shouting at him, and telling him they couldn’t get sugar at three in the morning, which Sherlock also thought was absurd. It was breakfast time somewhere in the world and he could make french toast at three in the morning if he damn well pleased. And after all that, (Sherlock settled for honey), even though the name was still annoying (French? What exactly is French about this?) it was good enough to eat.

In the galaxy of humanity where every person is a star, Sherlock is one of the bigger, brighter, faster ones. His bigger mass allows him to go faster around the central black hole. Because he goes faster he can escape the gravity of the central black hole more than that smaller stars so he can go to the tips of the galaxy, the borders, he can settle in one of the spirals, he can look out to space, what’s around him because he sees less space dust and more /outside/.

Bigger stars are destined to die sooner. In Sherlock’s case, he has such a big surface to keep alight, so many neurons to keep passing electric to each other so he can remember things as he deduced. Sherlock’s destined to die sooner. 

Smaller stars, idiots as Sherlock so modestly phrases, have less surface area to keep fueling. They’ll live longer but go around the galaxy slower, they’ll be closer to the black hole and if they try to look out to space, all they’ll see will be other people. And space dust. And as magnificent, beautiful and colorful that is, it isn’t what all there is to life.

They’ll only see people in their lives, they’ll only focus on them because it’s only a myth that there are bigger things out there.

And that’s how it’s suppose to be. The galaxy looks spiral because some stars are faster, and some are slower. Sherlock sees, Sherlock knows, there are bigger things out there, Sherlock will spin and spin, Sherlock will try to keep himself hot and bright and he’ll live a short life, or collapse with another star. 

But looking out to space, Sherlock will see it’s just…dark. As other stars will. If they’re lucky they’ll see other galaxies, but other than that nothing else. No big finish, no magnificence, no heaven, nothing covering them. People like Sherlock will see that their galaxy isn’t even all that pretty. People like Sherlock will notice they’re living in a small galaxy, and that there are many like them, bigger, greater, and that they’re just a star faster than the others in their galaxy but not as fast as the others. 

Once you see that, bigger stars stop looking at the disk of their galaxy. There are bigger things out there but they know they won’t ever reach them. 

And that’s why it’s better for bigger stars to burn out. Because if not, they would definitely fade away.

Sherlock has absolutely no interest in space ever since he came that far. Ever since he noticed everything was so theoretical that he couldn’t handle it. Ever since he noticed that even humanity’s best machines can’t perceive the wavelength of an amount of matter that is in space. 

Space is just darkness, it’s emptiness, and Sherlock absolutely despises thinking in that scale. It makes him want to curl his fists, drop to his knees and weep. 

Because we don’t know anything other than existing. That’s one puzzle Sherlock can’t solve.

**Author's Note:**

> The plan is to have a chapter for every planet. We'll see! Comments are love.


End file.
